


Minifics

by allihearisradiogaga



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drunkenness, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Inspired by Music, Minific, One Shot Collection, Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allihearisradiogaga/pseuds/allihearisradiogaga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fics (usually around 500 words) from Night Vale. Some Celios. Will update!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. August 13

**Author's Note:**

> Some friends and I did a little mini-fic marathon where we all responded to the same prompt in something ridiculous like ten minutes, and then shared what we did. So we only made it through two prompts because it was late, but I expect that more of this will be happening in the future, so stay tuned! The prompts we made it to this time were “drunk Cecil” and “love song at a concert.” Enjoy!

**Drunk Cecil**

                “But that’s the thing,” said Cecil, slurring with each word, one finger pointing, the rest wrapped around the bottle of vodka. “Community radio is the back—“ He hiccupped. “—Bone of the community, and I need to support it so that the kids can go to a well formed school education in the local comraderie.”

                Carlos raised an eyebrow and wondered what he would have to do to pry the bottle from Cecil’s fingers. The things he was saying didn’t make much sense, but judging by the state of the other people around them, no one was going to be in fit enough of a state the next day to judge or remember this. He gave Cecil a smile. “It’s so great to hear you’re so invested in your community.”

                “Like John Peters,” he slurred, throwing his arm around the farmer’s neck, pulling him out of a conversation with Intern Maureen. “You know, the farmer?”

                “I know!” said John Peters, giving a hooting laugh. “I tell ya, I know I’m a farmer! I farm!” He eyed Cecil’s bottle. “Whatcha got there, Cecil?”

                “Chocolate—“ Hiccup. “—Raspberry vodka. It tastes good and tastes mauve.” He handed the bottle to John Peters, who eyed it, smelled it, scrunched up his nose, and handed it back to Cecil.

                “I’ll stick with the hooch,” said John Peters, showing Cecil the mason jar he was drinking out of. The liquid in it was black, seemed to be thick, and might have had some gray chunks in it. He took a swig. “I make it myself.”

                “Talent!” Cecil exclaimed as John Peters turned back to speak with Intern Maureen again. Cecil leaned forward to Carlos, who caught him before he fell out of the chair. “Carlos,” he said, lowering his voice in a way that he obviously thought was incredibly erotic. “You’re so pretty, do I tell you that? Because I want to just cuddle in your hair and touch your—“

                “Cecil, can I have some of that?” asked Intern Maureen, who had wandered away from John Peters and was now standing over Cecil and Carlos. She wobbled a little, and then found her footing again. “I need to get rid of the taste of whatever it was John was feeding me.”

                Cecil sat back and handed her the bottle. She took a big swing, and Carlos blushed, feeling his ears burning up. Cecil took the bottle back from Intern Maureen, and she scrunched up her face. “That stuff is disgusting, Cecil. How do you drink that?” Cecil shrugged, and Intern Maureen slunked off to bother someone else.

                “She’s so nice,” said Cecil. “She is working for job experience in radio, and for college credit. She’s so chipper, and I am so glad she’s around.” He paused. “I am glad she hasn’t died yet, because I’m getting to the final chapters of this Jaws fic and she’s the only one who knows the whole story so…”

                Carlos looked down at his boyfriend, who had fallen asleep, his head in his lap. He shook his head and smiled.

 

* * *

 

**Love Song at Concert (“Two Worlds Collide” by Demi Lovato)**

                “Thank you, thank you,” called the performer. “Like I said, I’m still not sure where we are, but thank you anyway!” She waved to the crowd, and they cheered. She was a much poppier act than they were used to, than they had ever heard forecasted, but they were enjoying the show that had been set up and announced that day. And the entirety of the town seemed to have shown up; even the hooded figures lurked near the back of the crowd, and Cecil could have sworn that he saw some sort of tall beings, definitely not angelic, standing somewhere to the right of the stage.

                “We’re going to slow it down a little bit for this one,” said the artist, walking to center stage with the microphone. “Because I feel like _I’m_ in a different world, so, yeah.”

                “She was given the world, so much that she couldn't see. And she needed someone to show her, who she could be…”

                The music was soft and it had the whole crowd swaying in time as soon as it began, with an almost hypnotic effect. Carlos wrapped his arm around Cecil, who leaned his head on top of his scientist’s. They watched the singer serenade them.

“You had your dreams, I had mine. You had your fears, I was fine. You showed me what I couldn't find, when two different worlds collide.”

Cecil felt the warmth of his partner and felt a _togetherness_ , that welled up inside of him, like a feeling of pride. Two worlds _had_ collided, his world, the terrifying and dark and mystifying world of Night Vale, and Carlos’s empirical, measured, and structured world of science. Together they meshed into something that was totally new, and totally precious. It mixed into the love that they shared.

“She was scared of it all, watching from far away. She was given a role, never knew just when to play. And she tried to survive living her life on her own, always afraid of the throne, but you've given me strength to find home.”

Cecil nestled his cheek into Carlos’s perfect hair and inhaled, smelling his semi-sterile scent and thinking of how wonderful it was to wake up to that smell in the morning, to wake up looking into his deep brown eyes that shined with wonder at the most trivial of supernatural occurrences. Carlos brought so much into his life, and much of it was more than just the knowledge of what really was, but a sense of purpose and something to care for, and he cared so much.

“She was scared. Unprepared. Lost in the dark. Falling Apart. I can survive, with you by my side. We're gonna be alright. This is what happens when two worlds collide.”

Cecil’s world had collided with Carlos’s, and as Carlos had explained to him eventually the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies would eventually collide and fuse to form a larger galaxy, his world had grown larger and more diverse. He had been opened to new things, and his heart had been opened to someone else, some who loved him _just_ as much as he loved him.

Cecil squeezed his boyfriend’s hand, who squeezed back. It was a love song, which was perfect, just like them, because they were in love.


	2. August 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos watch a movie, and they change a light bulb.

**Watching an Adam Sandler Movie**

            “What’s on tonight?” asked Carlos, settling into the couch with Cecil. Carlos was wearing the nighttime lab coat that Cecil had bought him for his birthday. Cecil nuzzled in a little bit and put the remote control down on the coffee table.

            “Oh, just an old favorite,” said Cecil. “It’s an oldie—one of the few early films preserved in the Night Vale Public Records office—and it’s being shown on TV tonight and I figured we should watch it together.”

            Carlos grinned and put his arm around his boyfriend. “That sounds fascinating,” he said. He wondered what exactly would make a movie historically important for the people of Night Vale, but was ready to find out, especially if Cecil was so excited about it.

            The commercials ended and the Paramount logo came across their TV screen. Cecil grabbed a mouthful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth. Carlos pecked at the snack, one piece of popcorn at a time. The title of the movie came across the screen.

            Carlos let out an uncalculated guffaw. “Billy Madison?” he asked. “The Adam Sandler movie, really?”

            Cecil didn’t seem to think that anything was particularly funny about this. He didn’t say anything, just looking at Carlos, his eyes showing the hurt he felt. “Yes,” he replied flatly. “Billy Madison. The Adam Sandler movie. Really.”

            “Oh,” said Carlos, realizing how serious Cecil was about this. He settled back down in the couch and turned his attention back to the screen. Cecil grew cold beneath his arm and he felt bad, wishing that he hadn’t said whatever he had that had offended him. Some funny parts came on, with Adam Sandler getting into physical or sexually awkward situations, which Carlos knew should have been hilarious, according to current and long-standing research into humor. Despite these, Cecil remained stoic.

            Carlos grew uncomfortable still, when Cecil refused to even move when the commercials came on, breaking up the movie. Carlos felt his arm fall asleep around Cecil’s shoulders, but didn’t feel like he could move it away without offending his boyfriend further. He let out a breath of relief when the credits finally rolled.

            When the movie was fully over, Cecil shut off the TV and turned to Carlos. “That movie is very emotional.”

            Carlos didn’t say anything and let Cecil continue. “The acting performances, the way in which the characters carry themselves, the writing and direction—it’s a cinematic masterpiece that I struggle to capture with words.” He wiped a stray tear that was welling up in his eye. “It’s the only film I’ve ever seen that captures the struggles of the educational system and the people who take their place in it in such a revolutionary way.”

            There was a silence between them for a moment, and Carlos pushed his glasses up his nose. He turned to Cecil and planted a kiss on his lips. “Cecil, I understand. And I’m sorry for my reaction earlier. I just didn’t get it, but now I know.”

            Cecil’s smile expanded across his face and he embraced his boyfriend. “Maybe next week,” he said, “we can watch a comedy.”

 

* * *

 

 

**How Many Idiots Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb**

            “Cecil,” said Carlos, his hands at his hips, staring at the ceiling through his lab goggles. “Do you have any light bulbs around? This one keeps flickering—it’s going out.”

            “Oh!” said Cecil, “Check the hall closet!”

            “Can you come help me with this? Bring a step stool.”

            Cecil was there within moments, ready to go like a happy puppy is ready to go on a walk. “Here,” he said, handing Carlos the light bulb. The second Carlos took it, Cecil had the step stool set up, and was holding it as someone would a painting ladder to keep it from wobbling.

            “Oh, thank you, Cecil,” said Carlos. “Can you hit the light, though? I don’t want to be electrocuted—“

            The light went out. Carlos shuddered. “Thank you, faceless old woman,” said Cecil. In the dim light of the room, Carlos could barely make out his white knuckles as he held onto the mini-ladder extra tight. Carlos took a few steps up and reached up for the blub.

            “Ow!” exclaimed Carlos, withdrawing his hand from the blub.

            “What’s wrong?” asked Cecil. “Did it bite you?”

            “No,” said Carlos. “It’s hot! I didn’t expect it, because at the lab we have energy-saving fluorescents—I wasn’t expecting an incandescent bulb.”

            “I don’t know what that is,” said Cecil. “But I do know that I didn’t even buy these bulbs. They were just _there_ one day, in the closet.” He shrugged. “They seemed to have worked pretty well.

            Carlos covered the tips of his fingers with the sleeve of his lab coat and unscrewed the bulb, holding it so that he could see it. “There doesn’t seem to be any sort of internal mechanism to light this,” he said. “It looks like—something gaseous is swirling around in there.”

            “Neat!” said Cecil. He handed Carlos the new bulb, and he screwed it in. Carlos climbed down from the ladder, still observing the spent bulb. When he was down, Cecil went to the wall near the door and flicked the light on. The room lit up, bathed in new light from the replacement bulb.

            Carlos muttered something under his breath about the fascinating properties of a semi-sentient gaseous light source, and Cecil grinned, thinking about his strong, handy man boyfriend.

 


	3. March 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil attempts to do science without knowing how to do science; Carlos and Cecil goes on a nature hike.

**Cecil tires to do science but burns off eyebrows**

“Carlos,” came Cecil’s voice through the cell phone. Carlos could tell that he was on speakerphone, and wasn’t standing particularly close to the phone. “Carlos, I need to know where you keep the antiseptics in your lab.”

“My lab?” asked Carlos, leaning forward. “Cecil, what are you doing in my lab? I thought you were at the station.”

“No,” said Cecil, “I stopped by to do some science. I mean, someone’s got to fulfill the scientific needs of Night Vale while you’re in the desert other-world, right?”

“Cecil, what are you doing, exactly?” asked Carlos, running a hand back through his hair. “Cecil, you aren’t mixing chemicals again, are you?”

“Not _exactly_ ,” said Cecil. “I mean, not really, no.”

“Cecil…”

“Listen,” said Cecil, picking up the phone again, and holding it close to his face. Carlos was glad that he could hear him more clearly. “I wasn’t doing anything particularly _dangerous_ , but I have caused a slight self-injury and need to…”

“The antiseptic is in the third drawer from the right,” said Carlos, shaking his head. “Is there any blood?”

“No blood,” said Cecil, “but I do have a little bit of blistering and open sores.”

“ _What were you doing?_ ” asked Carlos.

“I was trying to see what happened when I lit the Bunsen burners,” said Cecil

“Did you carfully turn on the gas, a little at a time?” asked Carlos.

“Define ‘little,’” said Cecil.

“Cecil!”

“I was curious!” said Cecil. “I thought that inquisitiveness was the backbone of science.”

“So is safety,” said Carlos. “What did you burn?”

“The fireball took off my eyebrows, or so…”

“Did you turn off the gas when you were done?”

“Did I what?”

“Cecil, turn off the gas. Is the fume hood going?”

“I am not sure what that is.”

“Cecil, _turn off the gas_.”

“Fine, fine, Mr. ‘I-know-more-about-science-than-you-do,’” said Cecil, not without sarcasm.

“Cecil, I just need you to be _careful_ if you are going to try to do science,” said Carlos. “And you usually aren’t.”

“I’m taking offense at that,” he said.

“Well, did you turn off the gas?”

“Yes.”

“Now, if you would, turn on the fume hood. It’s the thing over the lab table, and it sort of looks like the roof of the Pizza Hut.”

“Nothing is glowing in the same way as the roof of the Pizza Hut.”

“The _shape_ , Cecil.”

“Oh!” The sound of the fume hood’s fans sprung up behind his voice. “I think I’ve got it!”

Carlos just smiled and shook his head.

 

* * *

 

**Nature Hike**

                “Cecil, you really didn’t need to come along,” said Carlos. “Though, I do admit that I appreciate the company. And the local’s guide to the nature around here.”

                “Oh, I’m very interested in nature,” said Cecil, staring into the scientist’s beautiful eyes. He let out a blissful sigh.

                “Though, Cecil, I’m not sure that you’re dressed in the best way for a nature hike.” Cecil looked down at himself. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with a tie and a sweatervest, along with some metallic parachute pants and some bright orange flip-flops. This contrasted to Carlos’s cargo shorts, hiking boots, and short, sporty lab coat.

                “Oh, that’s fine,” said Cecil. “It’s just the scrublands and sand wastes, right? There’s hardly anthing really _mortally_ dangerous around here.” He nodded at a small bush. “Like right there, how cute is that?” Carlos took a step closer and adjusted his glasses. Once he saw what was under the bush, he took a small jump backward. “Right? It is cute, I’m not playing.”

                “Cecil, that’s a rattlesnake, and it’s not very happy.”

                “That’s because it’s not being cuddled,” said Cecil. Carlos looked from Cecil to the snake and back. He took ahold of Cecil’s arm and pulled him away from the snake.

                “I was thinking of observing some of the—safer—parts of the greater Night Vale area’s nature,” said Carlos. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the snake was stll under the bush, and hadn’t decided to fllow them. “It is interesting that there would be such dangerous animals on a public hiking trail.”

                “Oh, the rattler?” Cecil waved any worries away with his hand. “They’re _harmless_. The milksnake, though…” He shivered. “Those you’d like to avoid. Like the troop leaders always taught us: ‘Red on yellow, friendly fellow. Red on black, it _will_ attack.’” Carlos nodded, thinking to himself that this was in fact the opposite of what he had heard, but Cecil continued. “’Red on red, you’ll soon be dead. Red on charteuse, your bowels will loose…’”

                “I think I understand,” said Carlos, glancing around. “I am interested in some o fthe more seemingly unnatural phenomena that I’ve observed here in Night Vale, if you could point us in _that_ direction…”

                Cecil looked down into the scientist’s eyes. “Anything for you, Carlos.” He lead him a bit further down the path, until they reached what seemed to be a normal prickly pear cactus. “Look at this,” said Cecil.

                “Yes?” said Carlos.

                “Weird, isn’t it?”

                “Not particularly.”

                “But its spines aren’t even poisonous. And it stays the same size, shape, and color most of the time.”

                “That’s how cacti work,” said Carlos.

                “Cactus?” asked Cecil. He tilted his head, looking at the cactus. “Hmm. I thought that was a very old cat.” He shrugged and lead Carlos further on the trail. Carlos followed him on, but couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t heard a soft _meow_ from behind him as he went.


End file.
